The Thunder-Clap

by Vasile Alecsandri

O'er the plain whose breast is verdant with the quiv'ring corn-blades' sheen
Comes a shadow slowly creeping, slightly darkening the green,
Spreading, as an eager streamlet, that was erst by frost congealed,
Now at last its banks o'erflowing fills and floods the neighbouring field.

'Tis the shadow of some cloudlets, white and fleecy, fraught with rain,
That come creeping 'neath the sunshine building up a mountain chain;
With a faint mysterious murmur, like an all- but-stifled sigh.
They steal onward, darkly, dimly, till a flash lights up the sky!

Hark! the heavens' bellowing thunder ! Dost thou hear the joyful cries
That, responding to the signal, from th’ awakened earth arise Î
Now she knows herself enfranchised from long winter's stern control;
Youthful vigour swells her bosom — buoyant gladness fills her soul.

As she bids a joyous welcome to the tidings from the West!
See! a flight of stately eagles, high above the mountain's crest,
Onward swooping pause to listen to the heavens' mighty strain,
That proclaims amid the cloudland, "Sweet Springtime is come again”